


A Late Winter Morning

by triumphforks



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 21:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18186020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triumphforks/pseuds/triumphforks
Summary: It's Fudou's first birthday since starting at Teikoku.





	A Late Winter Morning

He cursed the icy cold morning. He cursed the cold, and the clouds, and the fact that he’d had to go and find the key for the locker room and wait there shivering for the heating to kick in. Of course no one would be here! None of them lived in the dorms, or were restless enough to be awake so early. They all had fancy houses with fancy chauffeurs, (probably), and had no reason to rush off from their comforts if they didn’t have to. Normally he would have waited a bit longer, too, waiting until the last possible moment to surrender the heat of his bed to the start of the day. 

Call him sentimental. Or  _ weak,  _ as he told himself, awkwardly jogging up and down on the spot in a vain attempt to fight off the cold. But this morning… he didn’t want to be alone. Not today. Not that it  _ mattered _ \- not that he really considered the day  _ important _ \- but he was only human, and while it would come a shock to people who knew him, he could feel lonely too. 

If only everyone else had got the memo. All he’d managed was to trade one empty room for a larger, colder one.

Slowly, the rest of the team began to arrive. There wasn’t much chatter (at least, none involving him). Just the usual curt morning greeting, and then everyone getting changed as normal, like today was just any other day.

_ It is just any other day,  _ he reminded himself, pausing in his own changing to glare in to his locker, and taking that brief moment to scold himself.  _ No one knows because you didn’t tell them. Just how you wanted it. _

 

He had gotten to lacing his shoes by the time Sakuma and Genda arrived. The former dropped something on the seat at his side as he went past, movements sharp and deliberate and underlined with that air of always-too-busy he constantly surrounded himself with. The mystery item was hidden in a sturdy box, tucked in to a thick paper bag. String handle. Embossed with some kind of logo. It smelled faintly of chocolate.

“What’s this?” he asked, curt, dismissive. 

“It’s your birthday, idiot.” Sakuma didn’t even turn around to give his reply, already busy fussing over the sit of his jersey. 

“...How..?” He couldn’t even finish voicing his disbelief before Genda cut in.

“It’s Sakuma. He knows everything.” He looked at the other boy, who was grinning, and tossed him two medium-sized objects without warning. He was off-guard, but he managed to catch both - and from the look of the wrapping, all neat, perfect edges, paper that probably cost more than his clothes - it was a good thing he did.

“One’s from me, the other’s from Kidou,” Genda said as he went past,on his way to his own locker.

He wasn’t quite sure all of this was real. The cynical part of him (which was, admittedly, most of him) refused to believe it - there was something dark underneath all this perfect packaging, he was sure of it. But there was also a small, unreasonable part of him - the part that had woken up that morning and been so heavily weighed down by pointless loneliness - that wanted to believe in sincerity. He wanted to believe he had…  _ friends _ , as unlikely as it seemed, friends who did things like remember birthdays, and turn them from just-another-day in to something more. Something he’d denied himself.

It was funny - he’d been the first one there, but it seemed he’d be the last one ready. He’d been so caught off-guard he’d forgotten to finish tying his shoes, and it hadn’t helped that his other teammates had started to come past and wish him  _ happy birthday _ ’s as well.

Eventually he did manage to get going again, only having to stop back by his locker to put both bag and presents away safe. He closed it, and allowed himself a small smile - before going to head out onto the field. 

Sakuma came up behind him with a firm slap on his shoulder.

“Don’t go sulking off after afternoon practice,” he said. “We’re meeting some of the guys from Raimon.”   
“Oi-”  _ don’t go planning things on your own, _ he’d wanted to say, but Sakuma had already run off ahead of him. Genda came up behind him from the other side, with his own heavy  _ slap _ , before he too ran off before he could do anything. 

He picked up his own pace - but only to a jog, because who wanted to be  _ that  _ eager to morning practice? - and shook his head. He supposed he’d have to get used to these kinds of surprises. 


End file.
